


An Unlikely Addiction

by AngelaSnape



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-24
Updated: 2010-08-24
Packaged: 2017-10-11 06:00:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/109168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngelaSnape/pseuds/AngelaSnape
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco develops an addiction to coffee.  And a certain sandy-haired barista.</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Unlikely Addiction

**Author's Note:**

> Written for 30 Days of Neville, 2009

Draco Malfoy pushed through the blue-framed glass door of LJ Coffee House and paused to inhale the aroma of freshly brewed coffee. He joined the queue and glanced up at the menu board.

"Latte, please," Draco ordered when it was his turn.

"Will that be in a mug or a take-away cup?" asked the barista, a pleasant-looking man about Draco's age.

"A mug, please," responded Draco.

From behind the counter, Draco could hear the hissing of the steam wand as the barista frothed the milk for his latte.

"Cinnamon or nutmeg?" asked the sandy-haired barista with a smile.

"Nutmeg," said Draco as he dug in his jeans pocket for the Muggle pounds he'd nearly forgotten to bring along with him.

"Anything to eat, sir? We have some lovely scones today."

"No, thank you."

A tall, steaming mug of foam – and, coffee, Draco hoped – was placed on the counter in front of him. Draco paid for his coffee and brought it to a leather-covered chair where he could observe the other patrons of the café, mostly men at this time of the evening.

From his vantage point, Draco could also watch the barista as he worked; pouring complicated coffee drinks and simple cups of the daily brew with equal aplomb though the café was busy. Once, when Draco was too slow to look away, he thought he saw a glimmer of recognition in the other man's eyes, but shook the thought away with a graceful shrug – no wizard would expect to find Draco Malfoy in a Muggle café, and a gay café at that.

*~*

As Neville Longbottom cleaned the espresso machine after closing, he allowed his mind to wander back over the evening's customers. Currently single, he didn't normally date the men who came to the coffee house, but there had been one that evening who'd piqued his interest. Slim and pale, with blond hair and grey eyes, he reminded Neville of Draco Malfoy, of all people. But it couldn't have been Draco.

The Malfoy scion had married well. His wife Elina had attended Durmstrang, as Neville recalled, and had the cool, pale beauty of a Northern European ancestry. Their wedding had been the social event of the season, only because Harry and Ginny had surprised everyone by eloping to America.

"G'night, Neville," called William, his clerk, as he exited. Though Neville preferred to work the coffee machines, he was also the night manager, with all the responsibilities of closing up for the night. William had a date tonight – otherwise he'd be cleaning up while Neville closed out the till. Locking the door after William, Neville went to the back office to finish up his closing routine.

As he settled the receipts, Neville sipped at a mug of tea. As good as he was at mixing coffee drinks, he preferred the taste of tea – it reminded him of summer afternoons with his Gran at Longbottom Manor. Once or twice, the image of blond hair or grey eyes would cross his sub-conscious mind, and Neville forced himself to concentrate on balancing the café's intake and output. It wouldn't do to leave the till unbalanced for the day manager.

After double-checking his tally, Neville was satisfied that everything was balanced, and leant back in his chair. He propped his feet up on the desktop, crossed his feet at the ankles, and cradled his mug in his hands. Then, he allowed himself to remember the blond patron who'd borne an uncanny resemblance to his school-day tormentor.

*~*

It was exactly a week before Neville saw the man again – personally, that is. He'd dreamt of the slim blond every night since the man's first visit to the café, each dream more erotic than the previous one.

"Latte, sir?" Neville suggested before the blond could order. "With nutmeg, as I recall," he continued with an easy grin.

Malfoy-like, the man arched a pale eyebrow at him before responding, "Yes, please." Then he smiled – something so far from Malfoy's usual sneer that the resemblance nearly faded away. "You have a good memory."

Neville felt colour rise in his cheeks, and quickly moved to hide behind the espresso machine. He focussed on the recipe – one part espresso, two parts steamed milk, one part foam – and willed away the erection he could feel stirring beneath his apron. He grated the nutmeg over the foam, and presented the finished drink to his customer.

"Anything to eat, tonight, sir? We have some lovely muffins this evening."

"Just the latte, thank you."

Neville collected the man's coins in payment, and deposited them in the till. "Enjoy your coffee."

"Thank you." He took his mug to the same leather armchair he'd occupied on his previous visit.

Neville was left rubbing the palm of his hand, where the blond's fingertips had briefly brushed it, and wondering at the tingling sensation he felt there.

*~*

Draco found himself in Soho more frequently as the weeks passed. Never really one to venture into Muggle London, he told himself he wasn't hiding from the Wizarding world and the embarrassment of a failed marriage. He also tried convincing himself that he wasn't developing a coffee habit in order to get to know a certain sandy-haired barista, but he was failing at that, too.

As he was paying for his latest latte, he paused, coins warm in his fingers, and heard himself asking, "Would you like to have dinner with me some time?"

A becoming flush spread across the other man's cheeks. "I… er," he began.

Draco paid for his coffee, and said, "Just think about it. I'll be over there when you make up your mind." He settled in his usual seat, and started reading his discreetly folded _Daily Prophet_.

Draco had finished reading the Problem Page and gone on to attempt the _Fiendishly Difficult Crossword_ when he sensed a presence beside him. He folded the paper, and then glanced up to see the barista standing next to his chair.

In a low voice, he asked Draco, "Is that today's _Prophet_?"

Draco was gobsmacked. _Leave it to me to find the only other gay wizard in Soho,_ he thought.

Neville offered Draco his hand and said, "Sorry, perhaps I should introduce myself. I'm Neville."

"Longbottom?" asked Draco, incredulous. He clasped the proffered hand and marvelled at the warmth – and magic – he felt there.

Neville gasped in recognition. "Malfoy?" He released Draco's hand and rubbed at his palm.

"Neville. Please call me Draco." He gestured at the chair across from his own, and asked, "Are you on a break? Please, sit and talk with me for a moment."

Neville caught William's attention, at the counter, letting him know he was on his own for a few minutes before he sat down across from Draco.

"The last I'd heard of you, you'd just gotten married," Neville said as he leant forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "What are you doing _here_?"

"Elina left me a couple months ago," Draco explained. "Moved back to Finland. Said she couldn't stay married to a man who preferred blokes to her."

From the look on his face, it was Neville's turn to be gobsmacked. "I never would have guessed you were gay," he said. "None of us suspected it, at Hogwarts."

"Yes, well, I did have a certain image to uphold back then." Draco's lips twisted into something between a sneer and a smile. He leant back in his seat, considering the man who sat across from him. Neville today was a far cry from the round-faced boy he'd been at Hogwarts. Stubble brushed his now angular features, and Draco estimated his height at a few inches below his own. Not handsome, exactly, but Draco was attracted to Neville in a way he hadn't felt towards anyone in a long time.

"Look," said Neville. "The reason I came over here was to accept your invitation – is it still open?"

Surprised, Draco responded, "Yes, of course."

"Good. I have to close tonight, but I'm off tomorrow. Would that work for you?" Neville asked.

"Yes," Draco smiled. "That would be good."

"Do you like seafood?" Neville asked. "Randall and Aubin isn't far from here."

"I've been wanting to try their sea bass. How about eight o'clock?" Draco suggested.

"I'll meet you there." At that, Neville stood, and returned to his post behind the coffee machines.

*~*

Neville arrived at the restaurant a few minutes early. He was still a little nervous – he'd been anticipating tonight's dinner all day, showering twice and changing his shirt three times before he deemed his appearance to be acceptable.

A quick scan of the restaurant told him that Malfoy – no, Draco – hadn't yet arrived. Neville gave his name to the hostess, requesting a table for two. By the time she had returned to escort him to a table, Draco had arrived. He wore a dark suit that reminded Neville of their latter school years; though instead of a black polo neck, he wore a dark green shirt, open at the collar.

"Hu—hullo, Draco," Neville stammered.

"Neville, it's good to see you," said Draco with a smile. "I'd almost thought you might change your mind and stand me up."

As the hostess led them to their table, Neville felt Draco's hand at the small of his back. His stomach felt like fairies had taken up residence inside it; he took a deep breath to calm his nerves.

Neville studied Draco from over the top of his menu for a moment, not really interested in deciding what to eat. Before he'd started coming to the café, it had likely been ten years since Neville had seen Draco. His blond hair showed no signs of thinning, and he wore it a little on the long side – not long enough to tie back, but long enough to brush his collar. Tiny crow's feet framed his eyes, which seemed to bore a hole right through Neville.

When their waiter arrived for their drinks order, Neville ordered mineral water. He wanted to be clear-headed this evening.

"I'm so glad you agreed to have dinner with me," said Draco once their waiter disappeared in the general direction of the bar.

"I don't normally date patrons of the café, but I've been thinking about you a lot since you started coming in."

"Really?" asked Draco. "What kind of thoughts have you been having?"

Neville flushed. At that moment, their waiter arrived with their drinks, and Neville was thankful to be able to put off responding to Draco's question. As he'd indicated the previous day, Draco ordered the sea bass, while Neville chose the prawns.

Alone again, Draco leant forward and said in a low voice, "So you've been having naughty thoughts about me, hmm?"

Neville felt a jolt of electricity that went from his chest straight to his groin. His prick began to harden, and he shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "You could say that, yes."

"Then perhaps we'll have to retire to my flat for dessert," Draco suggested.

"S—sounds good to me." Neville cleared his throat and took a sip of his mineral water; the bubbles tickled his nostrils.

The rest of the evening passed as somewhat of a blur to Neville. He'd be hard-pressed to recall any of the details of their conversation, and could barely remember eating his prawns – though the empty plate the busboy had cleared was evidence that he had, in fact, eaten his meal.

Draco paid for the meal, shaking off Neville's attempts to contribute. "I asked _you_ out," said Draco. "You can get the next one if you like."

As they exited the restaurant, Draco took Neville's hand. They walked for a few metres before ducking into an alley, where Draco Apparated them directly to his flat.

*~*

Draco's sitting room was small, but neatly furnished. He hadn't wanted to spook Neville by Apparating them directly to his bedroom – there would be plenty of time for that, later. Instead, he pulled Neville towards the leather sofa, removed his suit coat, and sat beside him.

"May I offer you a nightcap?" Draco asked. "I have a lovely cognac you might enjoy."

Neville shook his head. "Maybe later." He licked his lips nervously before leaning towards him and pressing a kiss to Draco's mouth.

Draco groaned and reached up to cup the back of Neville's neck. He licked at the seam of Neville's lips, and groaned again when he gained entry to Neville's mouth. He could taste a lingering hint of garlic; though he was pretty sure Neville had used a breath-freshening charm when he'd used the loo at the restaurant.

As they kissed, Draco leant into Neville, coaxing him onto his back. He arched his back slightly so that he could align their hips, and gasped when he felt the evidence of Neville's arousal pressing against his own erection. He shifted a little, rubbing their cocks together through the layers of pants and trousers; sweet friction that wasn't quite what he craved.

Beneath him, Neville's breath hitched, and he felt Neville's strong hands snake around his waist and down to grip his buttocks. The movement pulled them even closer together, and Draco ground his hips into Neville's, rubbing their pricks together with increasing pressure and friction until they were both shuddering their release.

Draco cast a quick Scourgify on them, just as Neville asked, "Now, about that cognac…?"

*~fin~*


End file.
